


Obligations

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [30]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Less than positive depictions of alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo has less than pleasant memories of intoxication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obligations

Kylo hasn’t been around too many intoxicated adults since he as a child. The Order doesn’t really believe in the cult of the grain or the vine, and if the higher ranking staff chose to indulge in secret… it was in secret. Meaning he wasn’t invited. On account of him not actually being at all popular with anyone ever, period, end of, new paragraph.

New fucking _book_ , if he was being honest.

His memories of alcohol are hazy, much like the thoughts he senses in others when they’re under the influence. Neither of his parents indulged much (sometimes with a meal, or at a special occasion or event), but they hadn’t been the best of nights when they did partake.

Maybe it was the added ceremony and pressure that had put Ben in a worse mood, back then. Or maybe it had been the pressure on his parents. He just remembers there was more volatile behaviour when alcohol was involved, and as such he’s not exactly in a hurry to try it for himself, or to be around people who do. It’s a mood-altering chemical, a depressant, and he is already depressed enough on a normal day without risking further upset by ingesting substances to tweak his responses and mood.

Which is why he makes his excuses at the first thing the pilots invite him to, and lets Poe go alone. He tries again the second time, but Poe won’t accept his ‘Please, go without me’, and says it’s all or nothing. So Kylo goes, because he doesn’t want to cut Poe off from his social life. Small sacrifices. Small compromises. 

That’s what a relationship is, right?

No one seems to notice that he nurses the same drink for an hour. He accepted one so no one would do the whole ‘oh but it’s fun!’ thing at him. One drink won’t change his responses or mood, and mostly he’s here to let Poe unwind. Unwind, and mingle.

His tousle-haired lover bounds back and forth, like he’s connected to Kylo by some kind of elastic. He tries to pull his tall boyfriend into conversations, and doesn’t seem to notice that Kylo stays just as long as he needs to before vanishing again. He _really_ doesn’t want to be here, even if everyone’s happy. It feels like a happy he’s not made for, and he just wants to curl up somewhere quiet with a novel, or maybe soak in a bath. 

Poe, meanwhile, is loudly declaring a blood feud with Snap over something inconsequential. It’s probably something to do with the fruity monstrosities they’re consuming (which have to be fifty percent sugar, fifty percent alcohol) and involves calling to mind several previous encounters that Kylo is blissfully ignorant of. For now.

Maybe he should try to intervene? He pads closer, and puts a hand on Poe’s elbow.

Poe shrugs it off violently hard, scowling at his chest, before his eyes track up and the darkness fades.  “Babe.”

Kylo tries not to let the flicker of fear on his face last for more than a second. “Should I take you to a corner to tell you that you’re beautiful?” 

His boyfriend laughs, and leans up to kiss him. He’s uncoordinated and messy, and he tries for a lascivious look, but mostly he just looks cross-eyed and wobbly. Grand Seducer he currently is not.

“Okay. But not as beautiful as you.”  


Kylo guides him away from the crowd, and wonders what _he_ would be like, drunk. He knows he’s got a competitive streak, and his is less pleasant and sweet and controlled than Poe’s. A little lubrication and Poe’s ready to punch out a Star Destroyer, so he actually is glad he’s not following his boyfriend’s wobbly footsteps to the metaphorical bar and back.

Seriously. What the hell was it in his eyes, just minutes ago? Because Poe is not normally…

Whatever it is, it’s passed. Right now, Poe is stroking the side of his face, a little more of his rugged charm back. His eyes are hazy, but dark and intent, and Kylo can’t help but react to the promise in them. Whether Poe’s body is _capable_ of delivering on it is another thing entirely.

“I’m so glad you came,” Poe says.  


“Really?”  


“Yeah.” Poe leans in. “Sometimes I hate being here and you make it worth my time.”  


His ‘whisper’ is too loud to be a whisper, but no one seems to notice.

“We could always leave,” Kylo suggests. “I don’t… like drinking so much. A bit of socialising is fine, but then…”  


“…then it’s pointless? Yeah.” Weird, introspective sobriety. “Plus. S’hard. I’m the boss.”  


“How about we go home, then? We showed our faces… we can leave.”  


Kylo watches Poe consider it, then nod. “We don’t hav- have to stay so late every time. If… you come for… hour… so?”

That sounds much more like a compromise he’s prepared to make. “Deal. Come on. I just saw more female anatomy than I have any desire to see again.”

Poe snorts. “Pilots. Always naked.”

“…you do realise I’m going to demand you change in private, now?”  


Dark eyes glitter at him. “Oh?”

“Yes. Oh. Your ass is mine, flyboy, So… scramble for home.”  


“Aye, aye, Sir.” Poe throws a salute, then wobbles to his feet. “Destination locked. Punch it.”  


Kylo will punch it for sure if this goes on much longer.


End file.
